Is Love a Vector?
by ChaosGamer
Summary: "'I-It was you...' says Misaka, recognizing the person who saved her, as faint surprise surfaces."
1. Why Is It So Hard To Get a Text Back?

'The Savior' - that was the term they used to refer to that teen, Kamijou Touma. That teen, using only that right hand of his, single-handedly put an end to the Experiment that took over ten thousand of their collective lives.

They were all indebted to him for their continued survival. They became conscious of their own importance and meaning in continuing to survive. They, by his actions, became human.

Therefore, it makes complete sense for him to be on the receiving end of their burgeoning affections, beginning with Serial Number 10032 to all the way to that Higher Unit, Last Order.

Well, except for this Misaka, Serial Number 10046 supposed. This Misaka was instead currently lost in a daze in her self-scrutiny as to why she progressively spent more and more time daydreaming about that white-haired Number One, the one who killed all the previous clones: Accelerator.

As she brought up her own left hand up to her own chin, she recalled that time when she scarcely caressed his chin (when he freed her from that kidnapping); she still could remember, on her fingertips, the texture of his skin. Soft and delicate, from years of being shielded from UV rays.

...On second thought, UV rays perhaps had nothing to do with the softness of his skin, but in any case...

* * *

And so, she decides to try sending him a text.

* * *

[3:31 PM: "Hello", writes Misaka, attempting to engage in a conversation with you.]

"..."

Why was her heart beating at this unnatural rate, 10046 wondered.

All she merely did was to send a text to him.

Alas, no matter how hard she stared at her phone screen... there was no reply.

Yet, hopefully.

Perhaps, ignoring texts was just part of his personality. 10046 thought back to that day, where, right after when she was rescued by him, she approached that gigantic mechanical monster with a crowbar. She remembered him rebuffing her:

_"Get on out of here, now."_

_"But.."_

_**"Scram!"**_

_"...Misaka wanted to fight with you... but is worried about being a bother and giving you some distance."_

_"You don't have to be considerate. Don't forget what I did to all of you. Just keep quiet and hold it against me."_

He did perform certain... actions against them that would seem more than shocking to a normal person, 10046 supposed. But, for better or for worse, 10046 did not have enough emotional capacity to truly comprehend the depths to which such actions sank, and her attitude toward those events were ambivalent at worst. She didn't really know what to exactly hold against him.

Why did she feel this way toward him, 10046 wondered. Sure, he rescued and protected her, but there was not much else interaction between them... in any case, she liked to think about him a lot, for some reason.

She felt a feeling of determination rise up within her... it was a foreign feeling. She never really had anything to feel determined about, before. This wave of mixed emotions... it made her more anxious than what she usually was emotionally capable of.

Again, 10046 felt herself being filled with determination: she positively must capture Accelerator's attention and heart...

..if he had either in the first place, she dryly remarked.

* * *

And so, she continued sending him texts throughout the afternoon.

* * *

[4:16 PM: "How is the hospital food?", asks Misaka, attempting to feign interest in such a mundane topic in order to continue sending you texts.]

[4:42 PM: "Dog looks especially cute today", says Misaka, as she sends you a picture of a dark-colored feline.]

[5:21 PM: "Misaka feels odd happiness whenever she thinks about you", admits Misaka, despite feeling nervous at such an admission.]

"'Misaka doesn't get it...', says Misaka with a hint of sadness in her voice. 'I send him a question, and he doesn't reply. I send him a picture, and he doesn't react. I send him words that describe how I feel about him, and, Misaka thinks, he ignores that even more', says Misaka, her hopes slowly spiraling downward."

10046 grimaced.

To those in the know, that was a _supreme_ show of emotion, considering how she technically did not have much of such.

"Misaka just... wants to talk to him..."


	2. Why Is It So Hard To Reply To a Text?

**So I'm right now rereading the Hogwarts Trilogy by purpleheart72... that person has unusual skill in writing romance. This fic, I suppose, is my own attempt at trying my hand in a - finally - proper romance.**

* * *

Another notification - announcing yet another message - popped up on his screen as Accelerator was browsing his phone.

Fifth one today, if he counted correctly.

He felt his burrow just... pinching together in frustration.

What was up with clones of that third-rate being this tenacious? This was bordering on obsession. And he thought he already had it bad with Last Order.

Last Order... would that brat know what was going on here? How would she react to this sort of unexpected situation, Accelerator wondered. Do they not all share a mental link, given their ability? But if so... even so... that brat was usually too focused in her own exhaustingly-active mind, he thought, as he cast a sidelong glance toward the small sleeping figure lying nearby.

Had it been _anyone_ else he wouldn't even _feel_ this much emotion from such barrage of messages. Anyone else would have been promptly told to piss off. But when it came to those clones...

"-_Consarn_ it," Accelerator hissed.

What did she text him _now_, he wondered. He slid his thumb across the screen and opened the latest message.

* * *

[6:44 PM: 'Misaka, just, really wants to talk to you,' says Misaka, as she feels her heart becoming heavier by the second.]

* * *

_You've gotta be kidding me._

Everything about this was disagreeable to him, beginning with this particular clone's odd fascination with him right down to the way she typed her text. When spoken, fine, but even in texting? Really?

Clicking his tongue, he tossed his phone away from him.

This was becoming a bother- an unnecessary bother. He was pissed off even when there was peace and quiet; now what? What on earth was he supposed to say to that? He didn't want to care about this- he didn't even want to end up in situations that made him explicitly express his desire _not_ to want to care about- he didn't even want to think about ending up in situations-

And so on and so forth.

On the inside, he knew: he couldn't ignore her forever. He wished he could, but he progressed far too much from his older-self to go back to his old way of - quite literally - occluding himself from observing goodwill of others. Last time he did that- he-

In pure, raw agitation he rose up from his bed with his fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. Then he bent his face as low as possible into his chest as he trembled in mental agony-

_Dog**gone** it._

_Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it- the experiment-_

It took him more than thirty seconds to recompose himself. The guilt that corroded his insides still stung whenever he recalled his own behavior in that accursed Experiment he partook in.

How could he show her goodwill after... all that?

What sort of goodwill could he show her... no, what sort of goodwill did she want from him, anyway?

As to why he should show her goodwill... that topic was already raised and answered back during that conversation he had with Yomikawa back in September 30th.

September 30th. A hell of a day that was.

* * *

_"Hey, Accelerator."_

_"What?"_

_"Showing goodwill to others... is that so scary for you?"_

_"Another cheery subject out of you... talk about a topic for an after-school walk."_

_"Are you really fine being a tyrant?"_

_"..."_

Talk about a pointed question...

_"It certainly results in a lot of animosity, but being __a tyrant__ seems to have upsides. He cannot be betrayed; he does not have to worry about a friendship breaking apart. A tyrant never has to care about goodwill because all he'll face is nothing but fear and hatred."_

What could he even say to that, he wondered. He kept quiet as she went on:

_"Are human relations made out of only goodill and badwill? Regardless, up until now you rejected all that came before you and have only shown badwill in return. Easier times. But that will have to change. That is why you ought to ask yourself- which will you show now? Goodwill or badwill? Which prospect is more frightening?_

_"Bull. I-"_

_"It's true. You've so far willingly accepted goodwill from Last Order, but you've so far been afraid of showing her goodwill in return. Such relationship looks tolerable at a glance, but in reality it is in a very precarious situation. Should that goodwill from Last Order run out... it could turn into a tragedy."_

_"...Tch."_

_"Is that prospect not scary for you? That any action you may take may push her away further, since you don't know how to bring her closer. That if your actions backfire, it may irreversibly create a chasm between you and her. But you also know that doing nothing will solve nothing."_

_"Lectures!"_

* * *

...

...No.

He did not want this to turn into a tragedy. He refused to let it turn into a tragedy.

So...

"...ghh," Accelerator growled. He already found this too troublesome, and he didn't even give his first reply. "What a pain..."

If he did not push himself forward here - Accelerator reminded himself, - things may regress back to his Experiment days. And like hell he'd allow himself to regress back into that monster.

So...

What the hell was he supposed to text in return?

[Hi.]... yep, fat chance. [Hello.]... even worse. [Yo.]... meh. [What do you want?]... he was annoyed, but not _that_ annoyed, not enough to be that much of a dipstick...

...

He tugged his hair in irritation. Why on earth was this so difficult? He could detect, calculate, and manipulate the vectors of all immediate surrounding particles on the fly and yet his mind just became _blank_ when it came to this... goodwill... feel-good emotion... stuff.

...

"Tch," he clicked his tongue. "Screw it."

Few rapid presses, and...

* * *

[7:35 PM: "..."]

* * *

Man... what a response. What a laughable response - he should feel ashamed here, and he would've, had he felt shame before. He was the most intelligent Esper in the city, he liked to think, but in reality he was this much of an idiot- him willingly participating in that accursed Experiment being first example... this joke of a response being a second example...

Well...

It was a start, he told himself.

* * *

"Mm? What is it, Index?"

"Oh, I see a Tanpatsu Sister on a bench over there."

"Hm?" Touma turned his head. "Oh, so it is. Dunno which Imouto that one is, though."

"She using that phone-thingy... she looks really happy, Touma."

"She does, actually. Huh. Never really saw an Imouto display that much emotion before..."


	3. How Does Beauty Work?

Now that the paramount task of getting him to actually reply was accomplished...

"...'I now feel even more avaricious for his attention', says Misaka with her mind inflated with audaciousness, purposefully using the word 'attention' instead of 'affection' for that extra bit of tease."

Thus did her short walk toward his hospital began.

* * *

Ward 2, Room 203. This was where he rested, recuperating his health.

10046 felt her stomach doing somersaults.

"'No reason to be nervous,' whispers Misaka to herself in order to calm herself down before opening the door. 'This is just a social visit, for his good health...'"

She briefly wondered as to what she should say to him if he was awake, but the door was now already open.

Fortunately for her beating heart, he was asleep, garbed in the hospital's green tunic and pants. That shade of verdant green contrasted handsomely with his angelic white hair. There, she felt an urge to take and press that angelic head onto her own chest, to feel the texture of his hair.

With bated breaths held in suspense, 10046 sneaked a chair to the side of his bed and took a seat.

She stifled back a sigh of delectation, the type of sigh people gave when gazing upon a particularly satiating painting. His face, so well-proportioned! So well crafted! The way his hair of air collapsed upon the hill of his forehead, the valleys of his eyes! His chin was like hammered silver, his neck was like quarried marble, meshed perfectly with his collarbone of oak. The way his green tunic covered his torso like fine satin. His arms were like jeweled scabbards, with the centerpiece being his tantalizing elbows.

Then her gaze fell upon his hands.

A bold, daring thought stuck upon her mind. That bold, daring thought begat a strong urge, an urge she feebly fought against with little use.

Slowly, little by little, she inched her fingers closer and closer toward his right hand.

Her fingertips touched his fingertips.

She weaved her fingers between his fingers. Then she interlocked them together.

And so, she was holding his hand, her fingers folded into his fingers.

Her face felt as if it was on fire. She knew this was not a good idea. But she couldn't let go...

Then, he opened his eyes.

* * *

That was perhaps the most bizarre sensation he felt so far in his life. As far as he could remember, no one actually tried to hold his hand before.

_Is she out of his mind?_ Accelerator wondered as he directed his gaze onto her flushed expression. Really, he only refrained his reflection because she was one of the clones...

But, as he continued to gaze upon her face, he saw more details particular to this clone only.

_Golden ratio, huh._

Mathematically speaking, her entire visage had this peculiar sense of wrought artwork. Her hair, brow, eyes, nose, ear, cheeks, lips; they all appealed to as many laws of geometry as possible to form the most aesthetically gratifying appearance as possible, to the utmost of her personal potential.

But stopping there would only be telling one-half of the story. She had this quasi-holistic aspect to her appearance that made gazing upon her face feel like gazing into crackling flames. Maybe it was the color of her hair, ranging between tea to auburn. Maybe it was the color of her eyes, ranging from caramel to coffee, contrasted with her skin of cream. Gazing into those eyes gave him a taste of his preferred canned decaf in his mouth.

_Not bad..._ he remarked to himself while shutting one of his eyes shut. _Some good genes she has there... that third-rate._


	4. How Do I Get Him to Like Me Back?

. . .

After a long pause, Accelerator pointedly glanced at his hand, still firmly clasped by 10046.

10046 then jerked her hand free and directed her gaze elsewhere, her face crimson.

A silence fell between them.

_What on earth am I supposed to say now?_, Accelerator wondered.

"..."

Then, she just... got up and left.

"..."

_...Yeah, best outcome right there, I'd say,_ Accelerator inwardly shrugged as he closed his eyes once more. _Neither one of us can find anything to say, because there is nothing to be said._

* * *

"'Why is Misaka such a child?', Misaka wonders after fleeing from the scene of crime."

She was alone, seated on a park bench, the warm afternoon breeze brushing past her.

She brought up her right hand onto her cheek, reminiscing the sensation her fingers felt against his fingers.

His hands... they were so soft.

A small smile graced her lips.

She looked up at the bright sky.

It was blue... so blue.

For a while, she stared up at the clouds, her mind at peace in contentment.

...

What was next, she wondered. He didn't seem to mind all that much when she touched his hand. A good sign, surely.

But... she was admittedly in unfamiliar territory here. Where to take things from here on out? She still didn't quite completely understand these feelings inside within her, and she didn't even know what... 'couples', did, in particular.

Then, a familiar sight caught her attention.

In that conbini across the block, a person reading something within... that looked like...

"'...Ah, that's onee-sama,' says Misaka, not surprised at seeing her reading something yet again in that store."

She vaguely remembered another clone of theirs, 10032 was it? Being wrongfully mistaken as onee-sama within that store, and receiving unimpressed looks from the owner in onee-sama's place.

"'Misaka wonders what she's reading now,' Misaka says, worried that she'll just leave again without purchasing what she's read."

* * *

The thing was, it was not some any manga Misaka Mikoto was so engrossed in at that moment, oh no. It was something unusually different, something she read with rapt attention, with a specific goal in mind.

Her focus being entirely on what she was reading at that moment, she did not even notice footsteps approaching behind her.

"I-I see," she whispered, "if I do this, than, he will..."

"'Good afternoon, onee-sama—'"

"Heghh!?"

Mikoto flew a full foot into the air before whipping around to see 10046 standing behind her; 10046 was unperturbed, her expression most serene.

"—says Misaka 10046, most unimpressed at onee-sama's unrestrained and needless reaction."

"You!?" Mikoto gasped. "What are you doing here? Wait, which one are you? And wait, we can't be seen together like this!"

"'Misaka is enjoying this afternoon. Misaka is Serial Number 10046. And, is Misaka not entitled to the right of visiting my dear onee-sama?', Misaka says, answering all three questions with much assertion. 'Misaka wonders as to what onee-sama was reading, that captured her attention so...'"

...

10046 trailed off as her eyes landed on the front cover of the magazine Mikoto was holding.

_Foolproof Ways to Get Him to Like You Back!_

"..."

"..."

"'...onee-sama.'"

"H-Hai?"

"'Now that Misaka has thought about it, Misaka is wondering if onee-sama has been conscientious in fulfilling her sisterly duties to us younger Imoutos,' Misaka says, driving this conversation to a specific point."

"What!?"

"'To be exact, where is our allowance? Surely, as our onee-sama, each and every one of us ought to be receiving regular allowances from you,' Misaka says, making her grievances known."

"What?"

"'Misaka only asks, because she wishes to buy something, and she just now realized that she has no money to spend,' Misaka says, admitting her inner intentions."

_...Oh, was that all?_ Mikoto inwardly brushed aside her sweat. _Just what goes on within these Imoutos' heads, I sometimes wonder..._

"Was that all?" Mikoto sighed. "Right. Well, what were you looking to buy?"

"'That,' Misaka says, pointing to the magazine onee-sama is holding."

...

...

"...Eh?"

* * *

And so, 10046, successful at her quest, left the conbini, her head buried within that magazine.

"'_"Dear reader in love,"_ Misaka reads, _"if you have a sweetheart in mind, that makes you head float up to the clouds, that makes your heart woozy, that gives your stomach somersaults, than you have chosen the right magazine! I, Brenda-chan, will guide you along to make that special someone fall in love with you back!"_', Misaka reads, her interests very much piqued."

"'_"Love, despite what books may say, it nothing complex,"_ Misaka continues. _"Love is simply this: what makes the world go around. That's right! Without love, this very earth may not even maintain its integrity. Fascinating, isn't it? If you are in love, be sure to know that you are a very special person; not everyone falls in love, sadly. Hold on to that love!"_', Misaka reads, her interests piqued even more."

"'_"So you are wondering, how could I make that person fall in love with me back? Well, love is not something you can force on another person. If that person has no such interest, you may hit a dead-end there. I hope you can be aware of that"_', Misaka reads, her heart sinking a little."

"'_"But that absolutely does not mean you ought not to try! So let us continue to the first step! And remember, these tips need not necessarily be in order! So! First things first. **Are you on first name basis yet?**"_', Misaka reads...

"...thunderstruck."

First name basis?

First name?

"'...'"

"'First name...' Misaka mumbles in haze."

_Neither one of them had first names._

_In fact, she couldn't even remember a single instance where she called him by a name at all._

Misaka felt her mind dim. This was a shocking revelation. Just what was going on here? How could she have missed this huge irregularity?

What was his name? Well, there was that title everyone called him by. But that was simply a title, nothing more. She couldn't even imagine calling him by that name.

According to the memories of the Misaka Network, he himself didn't even know his own name. He simply... forgot about it.

"'...'"

What was _her_ name? She didn't even have a first name. She was merely a number.

She didn't even consider that anything noteworthy... until now.

This... this was very serious. Gripping the magazine tighter, edging nearer to the edge of that bench she was sitting on (when did she even sit down?), she leaned in to read on. Perhaps this magazine will give her more clues toward solving this huge predicament.

"'_"First name basis is very important! From there, you can experiment with cutesy names to call each other, that will cement the special connect you two love-birds have! If you can convince that person to call you by a special nickname, that's a step closer to a close relationship!"_', Misaka reads, agreeing one hundred percent to this."

Yes... of course. Nicknames. She was learning a lot from this.

"'_"Another important detail to never forget: birthdays! Birthdays are very special events of occasion, where you now have a chance to present a special gift to him! A gift, designed by you, that conveys to that special person that special feeling you have for that person!"_', Misaka continues, feeling a mild onset of panic rising in her mind."

_Neither one of them had birthdays._

He didn't even know what day he was born.

She didn't even have a birthday.

Perhaps, if she looked into her own records, perhaps with help from her onee-sama, she may find out the date she exited from her tank... but, could that even be considered a birthday?

This... this was a serious problem.

Gripping the magazine ever tighter, she read on:

"'_"But that in no way means gifts are limited only to special days and occasions! In fact, why not surprise that special person with a special gift whenever you feel like it? It is a wonderful thing to see, to see a couple display the love they have for each other on any days or occasions!"_', Misaka reads, her mind now easing a bit."

Yes, of course. She didn't need any special reason to gift him a present. In fact, she could gift something to him even today.

...But, what? She didn't know his special interests. Another serious problem.

But did he even have a special interest in the first place? Many questions, yet so few answers.

She glanced down to finish that paragraph:

"'_"When in doubt, good food is foolproof!"_', Misaka reads, her mind racing..."

...Food.

She never saw him eat something, now that she thought about it. The list of problems here was growing.

But he did drink coffee a lot.

Coffee...

...

Perhaps... he may like her a little more if she made coffee for him.

* * *

**What should 10046's name be? Please tell me your suggestions!**


End file.
